


All a touch may tell.

by Kilgrave (I_Am_Darkness)



Category: Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Empath, F/M, Implied Mind Rape, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jessica Jones - Freeform, Kilgrave - Freeform, Massage, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, POV First Person, Superpowers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22957162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Am_Darkness/pseuds/Kilgrave
Summary: Kilgrave loves to be touched, but he only chooses the best to do so to him. (Y/n) is a professional masseuse, but it is not mere skill that has given her such a reputation. What happens when she comes across the first person who, like her, is...different?
Relationships: Kilgrave/Female Reader, Zebediah Killgrave/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 49





	All a touch may tell.

**Author's Note:**

> The reader's power was inspired by Theodora Crain from 'Haunting of Hill House' and the Masseuse from the film 'Youth'.
> 
> ❝ We can understand all sorts of things by touching. Who knows why people are so afraid of touching? ❞  
> -The Masseuse from 'Youth' (2015)

_My name is (Y/n) and I am gifted._

_Or cursed; it depends on one's viewpoint, I suppose._

_But if you ask me...I'd say it's neither._

_Not a curse, not a gift, just an ability that reaches beyond the span of an average human's posibilities._

_Now, compared to what is out there, what I can do is trivial. It doesn't create a thundering presence that turns heads my way, nor does it manifest itself in any visible way._

_When I touch people, I can tap into their minds. I can see their loudest thoughts, worst fears, greatest desires, deepest regrets...or just simple patterns of thought unfolding at that given moment._

_The latter managed to be achieved after I learned to control it, which took some time since I never revealed this ability to anyone and therefore had no mentor. I had to keep it a secret, otherwise it would attract unwanted attention._

_As one can imagine, I've seen several appalling things in people's minds, which would sometimes make it nearly impossible for me to act casual after a mere handshake._

_Some could say that, knowing what I know, I have almost every reason to hate humanity; and though I did spend most of my childhood and adolescence doing so, eventually I understood that these very repressed thoughts that are so vile and twisted...are precisely what make us human, because they complete our essential duality by adding the darkness to our light and equilibrating our identity._

_After all, I got to see the best and the worst...all in one man._

I work as a massage therapist and this had been one of the very busy work days, filled with appointments one after the other. I barely had enough time to head to the bathroom now and then or get myself a glass of water. A great job, but a demanding one.

At that time, I had just finished with a client; Cecilia Higgs, a middle-aged woman, unmarried, who had recently lost her cat, Ludo. She'd left the door open and the sneaky little thing must have slipped through while she was cleaning. How he managed to get out of the building, she didn't know. Though what mattered was this intense feeling of loss and hopelessness that weighed her down. She wasn't much of an outgoing person, never really managed to form any meaningful bonds with humans, so this loss had really taken its toll on her.

The way I do massage therapy is...slightly different. I try to communicate what I see in a way that does not betray my ability, but encourages people to open up to me. Engaging in conversation lessens the tension that a client might feel, especially when their pain is understood or their happiness is shared.

While I couldn't do much to help Ms Higgs find her cat, I managed to make her feel better. I never learned if she found Ludo or not, but I certainly hope she did.

...Perhaps I was more descriptive than needed about Ms Higgs and her cat situation. The important part was what happened after her session was over. I walked her out of the room to the main hall where other clients normally wait for their appointments, but only one person was there.

I mentioned before that this day had been a very busy one and when Ms Higgs had arrived, there were three people waiting outside, calmly lounding on the two large leather couches there, so it was normal for me to be shocked that they had left without a word.

My attention was on that man who was comfortably sitting on the couch facing the door to the private room. His expression indicated boredom, but that wasn't what had me staring at him.

Almost everything in his expensive suit consisted of different shades of purple.

_Purple. A healing colour, also associated with spirituality. Mourning too, in some cultures._

Perhaps this had nothing to do with his preference towards it, but it was intriguing. I rarely see people wearing that colour so much. He definitely wasn't there when Ms Higgs' appointment started and my mind was already connecting this to the sudden disappearance of the other three clients.

"Jesus, that took ridiculously long. I was almost going to come in anyway." Stated the man in a certainly different voice than I'd expected. The British accent he had definitely suited him, but perhaps I expected the voice of such a man to be deeper.

How obnoxious he'd been, as if he were the center of the world.

At that time, I was angry at him; enough that it blinded my common sense, which would otherwise have told me that he was desperate for an attention he lacked. I found out either way, but that came later.

"Excuse me, that is very disrespectful of you. I doubt you have an appointment either." I responded perhaps a tad harsher than I normally do.

"I do now."

This was all he needed to say. Just like that, I was convinced. Doubt poked at my mind, reminding me that he really didn't, that I would have recognised such a distinct voice had he scheduled an appointment, but it didn't seem to matter.

He was there now and he had an appointment.

"Of course, sir. This way." I nodded and led him inside. "May I ask your name?" I asked casually.

I later found out that the effect would not cease for the next twelve hours and until then I was perfectly convinced that this man had an appointment even though I didn't know his name.

"Kilgrave." He responded just as casually and took off his violet suit jacket. I nodded once more and proceeded to take it from him and place it on the coat hanger next to the door as I pondered on that unusual name. Apparently, everything about him was unusual. Or so it seemed at first.

"So, Mr. Kilgrave, what will it be?" I asked, considering that there was no schedule to this appointment and I basically had to ask him how to proceed. It was as though he was in control. Later on, I found out that this had literally been the case.

"Full body massage," was his response while he proceeded to take of his vest, tie, shirt, trousers...

I admit I'd been staring, but to my surprise, he had not said anything to protest to that. Perhaps his confidence while undressing had piqued my interest; after all, most clients have some reluctance at first.

...Then again, I shouldn't deny how attractive he is, but I didn't let that guide my thoughts. It would be severely inappropriate considering this is my work.

Before he could reveal himself, I went to take a warm dry towel and while restricting my gaze to his eyes alone, I handed it to him.

Immediately after, I turned away to collect his discarded purple attire from the table, which I proceeded to fold as neatly as I could, starting with his shirt. His clothes radiated the scent of his cologne and I could tell it was expensive. It didn't come as a surprise.

"You're slow. Leave the clothes and come here."

And so I did.

Compelled by some unknown force, I went to him and I was much quicker in applying massage oil on my hands than I had been with folding his clothes. He was already lying down on his back and, having figured out by now what fuelled his ill-mannered confidence, I did not wait for him to tell me to start.

I remember feeling frightened. Quivering hands, heart hammering in my chest and echoing up my ears...I was in the same room with a mind-controller and was receiving first-hand experience on what it's like to be used as a puppet. Resistance was practically impossible and I could only wonder what else his mind would conjure up for me to do.

Considering my own negative thoughts, it was only natural for me to tap into the most vile of things he'd subjected people to the moment my skin touched his and containing myself from an outburst was...difficult, to say the least. He'd killed, but he'd been especially violent to those who knew about his past, whatever that was, so I knew I had to avoid blowing my cover at all costs.

My hands glided over his skin with a small amount of pressure over his muscles and I could faintly hear the soft breath that came from him, but my mind was focused elsewhere. There were many terrible things revealed to me, but my survival instinct told me to look for at least something positive before I let my own emotions get me killed.

I had to force myself out of the negative side of his memories, which was like pushing my way out of a thick swamp in which I'm buried neck-deep.

But I did it nonetheless.

My hands lingered on the small of his back as I saw him standing in front of a frail young boy no older than twelve. His eyes were cold but there was something else behind his seemingly hollow gaze; he was restricting the emotion even from his own memory of the event.

Kilgrave reached into his pocket and pulled out a surprising amount of cash rolled up and held together in a cylinder shape.

His conversation with the boy sounded as though I was hearing it from underwater, so I began to focus the movement of my hands on his lower back, rubbing over the muscles near the spine in circular movements as I attempted to clear the voices up.

"Where are your parents?"

"...I...I don't know..."

"Why?"

"Be-...because I left. They were hurting me."

"Hurting you how?"

"My dad would hit me...and my mom-...she stood away and watched..."

Nothing about his voice suggested any empathy; it was cold and resembled that of an interogator, but I could feel the rage boiling inside him...restrained but strong.

I focused my gaze on the boy he was looking at. His clothes were dirty and he looked frightened. He probably didn't want to reveal any of the things that Kilgrave was asking.

"It was a sensible choice to leave. It would have been more of a sensible choice to kill your parents, but that can always be done later. When you're stronger." And with that twisted advice, he gave the money to the young boy. "For now, focus on yourself. Whether you kill them or not, make sure to be something greater than them." Before the kid had any chance to respond, Kilgrave spoke, "Go now, out of my sight."

His glare was harsh and the young man quickly bolted at his command.

In a twisted sense, he'd offered kindness. He could have done much worse, but he offered his...controversial kind of motivation and a hefty amount of money before sending the kid away.

I could tell by the twist in his gut that he wasn't used to being kind, there was a clear discomfort and uncertainty after having helped this kid, but at least one it was a pleasant thing about him to hold on to.

Later on, I would find out that there was more kindness in him. One just had to look deeper...

It had calmed me to see this, allowing me to work with a bit more comfort. I managed to focus my inevitable sight on more casual memories and thoughts, like his food preferences, hobbies...anything to keep my mind occupied.

To my pleasant surprise, it appeared to be working. I was finally calming down and he seemed to relax as well when he felt my own tension disperse. He was very responsive to touch, more than most people who come here.

He mostly remained calm, but now and then he'd breathe out or slightly part his thin lips before sealing them shut again.

This man was most certainly a mystery at that time and though I calmed down knowing that all he wanted was a massage, he still inspired fear. Thus far I had remained completely silent, which was unusual since I liked to help clients by seeing what troubles their minds.

This time, I was completely unsure of what to say. There was no way to randomly bring up the subject of crime without appearing suspicious. Especially after having been silent the whole time.

"You're really good at this."

His voice snapped me from my thoughts. Honestly, he didn't seem like the type to enjoy small talk from what I'd seen in his mind, so this was an honest compliment. Besides, his words already compelled me to believe so. Still, I chose to word my response with modesty.

"I mean, it's my job to be, but thank you." I responded calmly.

"I've had many massages, you'll be surprised how useless some people are." He said in a softer voice as I reached my hands up, rubbing between his neck and shoulders, he liked that spot.

I was once again compelled to agree during the time, but I continued to ponder on it. Useless...that's what he thought of some people. There was a part of me, beyond his control, that resonated with this. After all, I'd spent most of my childhood resenting the world. I could help but wonder what it was that made him think this way...

"Perhaps you're right." I mused as I reached the back of his neck, though something made me freeze.

Going through one's memories via touch is like sailing in the empty sea. Some parts are stormy and wild, others are calm and sunny, others are a bit of both...but this one memory, was like a colossal wave coming out of nowhere.

It was only a brief flash, but I saw a young boy screaming in agony. None of the atrocities he'd committed could compare to what this memory made me feel and I most definitely wasn't ready or willing to see the rest of it.

"Why did you stop?" His voice snapped me from my thoughts and all of a sudden I was compelled to respond.

"Oh- I-...I saw something..." I had to tell the truth, but not the exact truth. It was only a matter of linguistics, but thank God I was able to maneuver my way out of this despite the shock.

"On my skin?" He asked as he craned his neck to look at me. His brow was arched and I could tell how impatient he was. No wonder...mind-control encourages instant gratification, which by extension creates impatience.

I shook my head negatively. "No."

Really, there was no need to add more and make myself seem even more suspicious.

"Good, then I don't care. Carry on."

I remained silent as I continued. Ironically enough, it's his impatience that should be thanked since he didn't bother to look into this.

After I finished with his arms and legs, he turned around upon my request and I took a moment to apply some massage oil on my hands again. I could feel his gaze on me and though I expected it to be intense, when I finally turned to him again he looked calm.

It was certainly a relief.

I placed my hands on his chest and pressed my digits gently before guiding them around in small circles. He exhaled deeply through his nostrils and focused his gaze on my hands.

I could see from frequent brief glances at his face that he refused to close his eyes or look anywhere else than where I placed my hands. The way he looked at them indicated a distrust; as if he were ready to slap them away if I tried to hurt him, yet he didn't command me not to do so from the beginning.

Logically, he knew that I had no such intention, but emotionally he felt like he was in danger and that he couldn't really trust anyone. I understood this later, after this session had been completed, and it had confused me back then since he genuinely enjoyed being touched.

Lowering my hands to his abdomen, I felt a small contraction of the muscles there in response to my touch. He liked it, both his thoughts and facial expression indicated that. There was lust too among the enjoyment, but oddly enough he was restraining it.

It perplexed me as much as it perplexed him since I'd seen in his mind how expressive he was of his desires; both sexual and otherwise. Clearly, he wasn't used to restraining himself and I had absolutely no clue why he was doing it now.

Not only that, but for the first time since this session began, I felt curious. Though, knowing that my safety depended on keeping my abilities hidden (and that curiosity killed the cat), I did not dare look deeper than the surface of his desire.

Avoiding his crotch (both with my hands and my eyes), I placed my hands on his hips and continued from there while silently praying that he would not give in to whatever desire he had and subject me to it.

And he didn't. In fact, he averted his gaze from my movements and stared up at the ceiling. I noticed a dull sorrow in his mind, which was strange considering he'd been lustful merely seconds ago. This man really was a mystery, and I doubted that _'Kilgrave'_ was his real name either.

I allowed myself a longer look in his surface thoughts, but the name was nowhere, which only indicates that he hides it even from himself.

But I was almost finished with this session and I didn't want to go deeper into his mind and see any more horrifying things in his memories.

Now, I like helping people; it was what motivated me to do this work, but during that time I had been content that Kilgrave kept himself hidden and treated this session as a mere service. He had not received the deeper conversations and the appeal to emotional instability that I gave to the rest of my clients, but I didn't think myself capable of helping him at that time.

It wasn't that I thought him 'unworthy' of help, everyone deserves to be helped, but as a flawed and frightened human being myself (who'd never met someone like him before either), I was scared. I put my own safety first, thinking that he'd kill me or abduct and control me if I voiced what I saw.

And so, I'd kept my mouth shut;

Ignoring the signs and my own gut instinct that told me he was in desperate need for help and that I was the only one who could truly see inside him.

A mistake I later regretted.

But for now, the session was over and I'd moved away from him after announcing that. I was unsure whether he'd just nod and leave or force me to continue, which worried me, but eventually he moved up to a sitting position with a deep, relaxed sigh.

I could still pinpoint the dullness to it, but he was calm and I was relieved for that.

I gathered his clothes and brought them to him. "The bathroom is right over there," I pointed at the door to my right. He'd probably want to shower since his body was now glistening with massage oil. "Take as much time as you need." I said politely.

He nodded wordlessly, took his clothes, and headed there while stretching his back.

I headed to my office, relieved that this was over.

Honestly, I didn't quite expect him to pay, but I wasn't angry. Given what I'd seen, I'd be happy just by getting out of this alive and well.

I knew he'd be done eventually and I'd have to collect the towels and clean up. I could probably close up for a little and get some fresh air, considering he'd sent away the next three clients I had.

I counted about fifteen minutes, usually a quick shower doesn't last longer than that, and I walked out of my office.

I didn't expect to see him there. The most possible scenario was for him to just get dressed and leave after having gotten what he wanted...

But he was still there, fully dressed, staring at me calmly.

He looked different; his eyes had softened in comparison to the hostility I'd seen when he first entered. He wasn't telling me to hurry up with anything and he hadn't come banging at my office door.

I didn't want to give myself away, so I made sure not to show my shock to see him still here. It would have indicated that I knew about his ability.

"Here." He said, handing me a lot more money than I could make in half a year.

"But that's-"

"Keep it."

And so I did, while staring at him in bewilderment.

"Thank you..."

I didn't have to touch him to see the discomfort he felt; it was all over his expression, just like I'd seen in his memory of helping that homeless boy.

He headed to the door without responding.

"Don't tell anyone about me. Erase any records or security camera footage you have of me." He commanded just before walking out of the door, which I did immediately.

What I understood from this encounter was that Kilgrave didn't really know how to be kind.

He sometimes wanted to, but forcing people to accept his kindness was apparently the only way he knew. I assumed and later confirmed that he'd had this ability to control minds from a very young age, which would explain his lack of social skills.

If, as a child, all he had to do was to demand something, which is normal for children to do, then he obviously would never have gained proper social skills that interactions are supposed to give. He's not really used to rejection, even the polite rejection towards an offer of so much money.

Either way, it's only fair to say that the unexpected appointment with him went a lot better than I'd expected.

He got what he wanted, paid even, and left.

I honestly did not expect to see him again once that door had closed, but he'd once again managed to prove me wrong.


End file.
